


Pillow Talk

by trirocksalt



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: I Don't Even Know, M/M, Masturbation, NSFW, Phone Sex, Promptis - Freeform, Shameless Smut, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-27
Updated: 2019-11-27
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:08:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21579652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trirocksalt/pseuds/trirocksalt
Summary: Prompto knows this is an absolutely ridiculous idea.He can’t be in his right mind.  Who gets curious about phone sex?... Okay, maybe everyone does, but for someone to *actually* follow through with it, that’s gotta be ridiculous and totally weird, right?Yet, here he is.
Relationships: Prompto Argentum/Noctis Lucis Caelum
Comments: 14
Kudos: 95





	1. First Contact

**Author's Note:**

> All right, hello! Long time no post!
> 
> After a few years gap of writing fic, I have decided to upload an older work that I must give credit to Numinoceur (twitter) for. She inspired me, collaborated with me, created a wonderful bit of artwork to go with this nonsense, and I wanted the internet to be graced with this fic's presence again.
> 
> Yes, I know FFXV is a dying fandom, but it holds a special place in my heart. Therefore, shameless as I am, I must provide content. :D
> 
> Enjoy!

Prompto knows this is an absolutely ridiculous idea.

He can’t be in his right mind. Who gets curious about phone sex?

... Okay, maybe everyone does, but for someone to *actually* follow through with it, that’s gotta be ridiculous and totally weird, right?

Yet, here he is. 

It’s two in the morning on a Friday and he’s locked himself away in his room (mind you, he’s been here already for some time, laying in bed, watching a dumb movie), holding that damn phone to his ear. Prompto should be hanging up, but he’s not. He’s too curious, despite being nervous as hell, because what if it’s someone he knows and they recognize his voice?

The chances of that are slim, considering Insomnia is such a huge city, but the thought’s definitely crossing Prompto’s mind now more than ever as the dial tone rings in his ear. Even more so when an actual voice picks up.

_Shit._ He can’t back out now…

“Hello, and thank you for calling the Insomnia Phone Sex Hotline,” drawls the voice of a mature sounding woman Prompto is thankful he doesn’t recognize. “How are you this evening?”

“Uh…” Yep. Prompto’s on a roll with intelligible words already. Oh, _boy,_ he’s going to be in for a real treat. “G-Good, thanks. How are you?”

“Excellent, thank you!” she responds quickly, with pep. “Before we begin, I’m going to need your credit card details. Is this your first time calling us?”

Prompto swallows. He thinks this is evident by his demeanour, but he says nothing on that. Instead, he’s fumbling to get out of bed, having not thought that perhaps a credit card would be necessary for a paid service. Definitely on a roll, here. “Yeah. Yes, it is. Sorry, hold on a second, I don’t have my card out.”

The woman is friendly enough, patient as he retrieves the wallet from the pocket of a pair of jeans he left on the floor and reads her the numbers off the card. They quickly go over the time slots and prices, which Prompto finds to be overwhelming, and especially as they go into the list of kink lines, he feels even more nervous than before he picked the phone up.

So there’s different lines for whatever the hell a person could be into - which Prompto thinks is absolutely mind-blowing - but he can’t help but worry. Would someone on the other end judge him? He really doubts not, considering what they’re doing for a _business,_ and maybe he’s just freaking out a _little_ too much over the whole damn thing, looking too far into it when it’s a service meant singularly for pleasure of all kinds.

Really, it took him a whole heck of a lot of balls to even dial the number, so there’s also that. 

Hell, _why_ did he get himself into this?

Regardless, Prompto speaks before he really realizes what he’s asking for, telling the lady he’s looking for a varied gender line, if that’s even a thing, which apparently it is. There’s a list within the kink list giving the names of the people who work in the line he’s chosen and none of them are names he recognizes. 

Most of them are pretty generic, really, but there’s one that stands out, one that sounds entirely too exotic for him to pass up.

_Noctis._ Hm.

But, fuck, Prompto thinks, for a brief moment, that he should hang up. Who cares that he’s already paid for the service? It’s not too late to back out, right?

“I’ll pick Noctis,” Prompto hears himself saying, betraying the thoughts in his head. _Again._ Goddamnit.

The phone’s ringing again after the lady tells him to enjoy himself. There’s a click, and then…

“Hey, handsome,” comes the voice of the most sultry sounding voice Prompto’s ever heard in his entire life. It’s dripping with molasses, thick, sounding deep within the man’s chest cavity, and already Prompto’s mind is spinning with ideas of just what this guy could _possibly_ look like. 

Random thought that’s crossing Prompto’s mind, though: how this guy can even call him handsome without knowing what _he_ looks like is beyond him, but whatever.

“Uh, hi,” Prompto greets, the nerves clear in his voice, causing it to crack slightly. Fuck, he’s twenty-years-old and here he is, sounding like a prepubescent boy because he’s so nervous.

There’s a snort of amusement on the other end of the line, and Prompto’s hearing Noctis laugh somewhat under his breath. “You underage, kiddo? Shouldn’t be up this late prank calling people.”

“I’m not underage,” Prompto huffs a little, light irritation in his voice, though he quickly deflates because the nerves are taking over again. He’s even trembling a little, holding the phone to his ear. “I’m just… It’s my first time doing this, so, uh… I’m a little nervous.”

A moment of silence follows this, and fuck, Prompto thinks maybe he’s fucked up in saying that this is his first time. Is this stranger, this Noctis guy, going to hang up on him? Deem him not worthy of his time because he’s a big freakin’ newbie? Prompto feels a spike of nausea settling in his belly now, sharp and harsh, as he sort of settles himself back onto the edge of his bed (he’d sort of forgotten he was idly standing about his room while settling payment details).

“Okay, that’s fine. Everyone gets nervous on their first call, don’t worry. Prompto, right? What’re you into, Prompto?” Noctis questions.

Being that Prompto’s _never_ done anything like this before, nor has he ever dedicated himself long enough to someone, he really has no idea what he’s into. He knows the basics, of course, but anything beyond that? Yeah, he’s hooped. 

“I, uh, I don’t know…” Prompto responds, again somewhat hesitantly.

Another bit of silence before Noctis speaks again, his tone lighter now, though he’s huffing a bit of laughter in his response to Prompto. “Alright then. Let’s start easy, then? Work you into the mood? What’re you wearing right now?”

Prompto blinks. God, he’s such a noob at this. “What am I wearing?”

He’s wearing the _least_ sexiest thing a person could really be wearing, just a simple, boring pair of sweatpants and a black tank with a giant skull pattern across the front. It’s his sleeping clothes, to be honest, and sleeping is something he _should_ be doing right now, but instead he’s on this silly phone sex line with some dude named Noctis.

“Uh, just some sweatpants and a comfy shirt,” Prompto responds, hesitantly, almost stiff. “…What about you?”

“Got some jeans and a t-shirt on, nothing too fancy, really.” Noctis responds with such a casual, cool tone that Prompto envies just a little.

“Sorry,” Prompto murmurs, “but, is talking about what we’re wearing supposed to be sexy?”

Prompto’s question is initially answered with a light huff of laughter from Noctis, and Prompto isn’t so sure what’s so funny about it.

“You really haven’t done this before, have you?” Noctis comments.

“Not at all…” Prompto shyly mutters.

Another soft laugh, though it seems to be non-judgemental in nature. “It’s supposed to help set the mood, help give a visual. I have no idea what you look like, so I kinda need something to go off of, and vice versa.”

“Oh.” Prompto thinks he understands, and he hears himself laughing a little nervously, though less so than before. Noctis sounds kind and patient, and Prompto is grateful he’s willing to explain the process.

“Alright, let us talk about what we look like, then we can try a little bit of roleplay, if you want. I’ll tell you what I look like first, okay? To help warm you up.”

Prompto nods, though quickly realizes that Noctis can’t _see_ him nodding, so he replies with a soft, “Okay.”

“Cool. Well, I’ve got short black hair, kinda spiky, and dark blue eyes. I’m about 5’8”, slim build, sitting here, chillin’ in jeans and a t-shirt. Got a basic visual?”

“Yeah,” Prompto agrees. He does manage to form an image of Noctis, and now with that description, he feels like this smooth voice suits the image he has in his head. The dude is a little taller than himself, with black hair and blue eyes, and he’s imagining a slender, pointed face. To be completely honest, Noctis, in his head, is a _very_ handsome guy.

Of course, Prompto could be totally wrong and Noctis looks like a dweeb, but whatever. He’s sticking to the self created image.

“Okay. Your turn, then,” Noctis encourages.

Oh. Right.

Prompto clears his throat, looking down on himself to see if there’s really anything on his body worth pointing out. “Blonde hair - spiky, too. Uh, my eyes are a really bright blue-violet, and I got a stupid about of freckles all over. You’re an inch taller than me, and, uh, I’m kinda slender, too.”

There’s silence as Noctis seems to assess this information, and Prompto _swears_ he hears a hitch in Noctis’ voice, but it’s not a long silence before there’s words being spoken, so he quickly forgets what he’s heard because the words Noctis is telling him quickly captivates him. “You sound cute.”

Prompto blushes hard, not sure what to say to that. This guy, just based off a simple description, thinks he’s cute? Well, that’s kinda… strange?

“So, there’s lots of freckles under that shirt you’re wearing, right? Why don’t you take it off for me? Tell me when it’s off.”

Prompto swallows. He closes his eyes, trying to imagine Noctis standing before him, and while it’s a little ridiculous, he dives in. What’s there to lose, really? So, he listens, slowly pulling the tank top off and discarding it somewhere nearby, leaving him bare chested. 

“I…” Prompto trails, mustering up some courage here, because he has to. Noctis is being so patient, so kind, as Prompto tries to figure all of this out, to find his comfort zone. “It’s off.”

Noctis hums in appreciation, and that sets a weird warmth on fire in the pit of Prompto’s belly. He decides he likes this noise; it’s making his heart pound a little bit, less out of nervousness and more out of slight excitement.

“Perfect. I want you to run your hand down your body, maybe start touching your nipples, or somewhere you feel comfortable starting out at. I’ll do it with you. Let’s both make a noise when we’re doing it, okay?”

For some really bizarre reason, Prompto really feels naturally inclined to listen to what Noctis is telling him to do. The layers of nervousness are slowly peeling away. That voice is very enticing, easy to sort of melt into, and it’s strange but Prompto’s not questioning it. Rather, he’s doing what he’s being told, a hand slowly working along his torso. His fingertip draws little circles around the dip of his hip, then works it way up towards a nipple.

It’s in that moment that Prompto discovers just how _sensitive_ his nipples are.

There’s a spike of warm pleasure that moves through him the moment his fingertips brush along the nub, and almost instantly it responds, hardening. Prompto breathes an erratic breath as he starts to lightly pull on it, bringing it further to life, doing the same to the other one. It feels… really good, actually.

And then, Noctis is moaning lightly in his ear, and almost immediately, Prompto feels a shot of white hot heat going straight between his thighs. He can’t even help the little moan that escapes him as a result of this, plus the simple stimulation of his nipple.

It should be absolutely stupid that a _stranger’s_ voice is seducing him, but fuck, Prompto is slowly losing his ability to care. Noctis sounds so nice.

“Tell me what you’re doing to yourself. I wanna hear what’s making that delicious sound come out your mouth.” Noctis sounds a little erratic too, though somehow more controlled. Prompto thinks perhaps it’s just Noctis’ experience that allows him to control his tone like that. Whatever, he’s not reading too much into it right now, not when there’s much more pressing issues at hand.

Such as the hardening cock between his legs, quite literally pressing against the front of his pyjama pants already.

“My nipples,” Prompto starts. After a second though, he realizes he doesn’t make sense in just saying that, so he adds on a quiet, “I’m touching my nipples. Rubbing them, pulling them… it, ah, feels really nice.”

Noctis responds with a hum. “Good,” he drawls. “While you’re doing that, I want you to picture what it feels like to have someone kissing along your jaw to your neck, down your chest… can you do that?”

Even though this is just something Noctis is saying to get him into the mood, Prompto can’t stop himself from imagining this stranger, with his molasses-like voice and dark hair, bending over him and ghosting his lips along his skin. Along the sensitive crook of his neck, where it connects to his shoulder, towards his collarbones and eventually the buds of his nipples.

Prompto lets a gasp escape him now, very much audible, as he brushes his fingertips over his nipples again. He’s getting caught up in the fantasy already, so easily.

“Feels nice, doesn’t it?” Noctis confirms, apparently having heard the little gasp.

“…Yeah. Feels nice…”

There’s a brief moment in all this where Prompto can’t help but wonder what it is this illusive stranger is doing. The thought crosses his mind that perhaps Noctis is just playing it up, just making noise or little comments to enhance the experience, but Prompto’s curious. He wants to know.

So, Prompto dares. “What’re you doing?”

A moment’s silence passes between them, and it’s long enough for Prompto to pick up on some background noise. He swears he can almost hear a light bit of shuffling on the other end, that maybe Noctis is moving around or something, and there’s _very_ faint talking in the back, but he can’t quite tell if it’s another person or if it’s perhaps a television blaring. Really, he has no idea where Noctis is, if he’s _actually_ in Insomnia, but that doesn’t matter right this second. Not when he’s very clearly hearing the sound of something lewd, something… almost _wet._

“Got my hand around my cock, picturing you jacking me off. It feels really good, you know? The way you grip my cock.”

“Oh.” Oh, boy.

Noctis is imagining _him_ doing these things? It’s… very flattering, to be completely honest.

Prompto’s flushing bright pink now, his own hand trickling down his torso. It hovers over the band of his pyjama pants, maybe for a few seconds, before it’s delving inside. His cock is pretty hard, to say the least, and it’s leaking a small bead of precome, staining the front of his pants. Prompto grips the base of it, giving it a few long strokes, and tries to imagine the same image Noctis is, except with opposite people.

Surprisingly, thinking of Noctis’ hand around his cock? It’s yielding very positive results, because Prompto is moaning a little bit, as he smears the precome along the length of his cock, lubricating it and using it to steadily increase the friction.

“What’re you doing to yourself?” Noctis questions, his voice sounding a little breathless. There’s still lewd noises in the background, faint, but Prompto can hear them.

“I’m thinking about you. Thinking about you fisting my cock, too, and how good it feels.” Prompto’s blushing even harder now at this sudden confession, surprising himself with how thick his own voice sounds. He’s speaking without thinking; what if Noctis thinks he’s weird, despite the earlier confession?

“Good,” Noctis breathes into the phone. It sets Prompto on fire with goosebumps. “Let’s finish each other off then, hmm?”

Prompto pauses, only for a second. “Okay…”

Whatever. They’ve made it this far.

So, Prompto sets to work. He closes his eyes, imagining this Noctis fellow beside him with his hand around his cock, stroking it long. Initially, it’s soft strokes, gentle almost, but as the need and desire increase, it gets rougher, less rhythmic. At some point, too, he takes his cock out, the confinements of the sleeping pants making it rather difficult to maintain any sort of rhythm, erratic or otherwise. He’s lightly groaning, panting, whimpering, into the phone every so often, which earns him a huff or a quiet little moan in response from Noctis.

To be honest, Prompto isn’t sure how long they go on like this, but it feels like only a few minutes because the world is spinning so fast. The closer he gets to his climax, the more dizzy he feels. The heat, once a sort of general warmth, is starting to collect into a pool near the base of his cock. His balls are drawing tighter to his core, and Prompto knows what comes next.

“Noctis, I…” Prompto tries.

“Me, too,” Noctis responds, seemingly understanding what he’s trying to say.

With that answer in his ear, Prompto decides he can’t hold on any longer. As weird as it is - or, maybe not so weird, now - he decides he’s going to come with Noctis, disregarding any thoughts as to whether or not Noctis is *actually* doing the same thing as he is. So, he pumps his cock hard, fast, balls drawn so tight, until he’s coming. 

A rather loud moan emits from Prompto’s throat as come spills out in spurts over his hand and up his belly a little. It’s quite a load, too, sporadically shoot while his hips thrust without much sequence to it. His thighs are trembling, toes curling a little, and he milks his cock with quick pumps to the head, riding out the rest of his orgasm until he’s run dry, panting, sprawled across his bed.

On the other side the phone, there’d been a stifled moan from Noctis around the same time Prompto gave into his release, followed by some panting and choked gasps. They’re delicious sounds, Prompto decides, as they fall together into silence seconds later.

It stays like this for a few moments, allowing for Prompto to come down from the high of his orgasm, to settle the wild beating of his heart and to gather his thoughts properly again, having gone a little brain-fuzzy during the heat of it all. His cock is soft, sticky against his belly, peeking out just above the waistband of his pyjamas. He feels wonderful. No, he feels… well, hooked, and not entirely on the actual experience of joined masturbation.

No. Prompto’s hooked on the sound of Noctis’ voice as he’s riding his own orgasm.

The thought *does* cross his mind, for a split second, that Noctis could have been faking it, but there’s no way. Could a person _really_ fake sounds like that? Prompto doesn’t want to think about that, despite the reality of it being very real…

“…earth to Prompto?” Noctis’ voice comes into the cloud of Prompto’s mind, quickly diverting him from these solemn thoughts.

“Huh?” Prompto murmurs, blinking slowly, suddenly very tired.

“I said, how was that for your first experience?” Noctis is sounding breathless, too, although that could be just Prompto making things up in his head to try and turn this into a real connection instead of a one time call.

“…It was… _really_ good, Noctis. Thank you,” Prompto responds, somewhat delayed, but he’s smiling. 

Maybe, just maybe, this could be he does more than once, and not just because of the sexual interaction. There’s… *something* about Noctis that Prompto _really_ likes. He’s not sure what it is, yet, but he wants to do this again. Definitely.

So, he says, “I’d love to do this again, sometime.”

The gentlest huff of laughter comes from the other end of the line, and Noctis is speaking with a tone of voice that is strangely fond, despite not even knowing Prompto from some random person on the street. Which, quite honestly, they could very well pass one another and really not know who the other is.

“Yeah. I’d like that,” Noctis is agreeing. That, more than anything, makes Prompto smile, allowing for his own light chuckle to come out.

“Thanks again, Noctis. Really. You made this experience a lot less awkward for me. I appreciate that,” Prompto says with a fondness of his own.

“Anytime, Prompto. I’ll be here the next time you call.” Noctis freakin’ _sounds_ like he’s smiling wide as he says this.

And, well, Prompto? He’s hooked.

“Better be.”

With that, they bid each other a good night, and Prompto hangs up after a moment’s reluctance. Truthfully, he feels like he could spend all night talking to Noctis, this total stranger he met through a fucking _phone sex_ line. Whatever.

After setting his cell on the night stand, Prompto takes his time cleaning up. He’s a little daydream-y, if he’s being honest, and when he finally _does_ lay his head down on the pillow to sleep, he’s thinking about that deep, wondrous, mysterious voice that belongs to the ever elusive person named Noctis.

Yeah. Prompto’s _definitely_ doing this again.


	2. Booty Call

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Noctis thinks it’s going to be a regular night at work. Another day, another dollar, right?

Noctis thinks it’s going to be a regular night at work. Another day, another dollar, right? 

It’s Friday, so it’s busier than normal. As such, he fully expects things to be steady, and for his wallet to fill up quickly. 

That’s the usual, anyway.

It’s not that Noctis doesn’t like his job, because he most certainly does - it pays some extra bills, after all - but sometimes on busier nights, he gets the really weird customers. As a rule, he’s not supposed to hang up on anyone, but if they’re being absolutely outright creepy, or asking for something that isn’t legal in the real world, he won’t go for it.

He’s praying that won’t happen tonight, because it often does on a Friday or Saturday evening.

“Hey, Noct!” greets Gladiolus, a big beefy dude with a deep set voice, from his desk, waving as Noctis walks by. “You’re late.”

“You keeping tabs on me, Gladio?” Noct returns, a slight smirk on his lips. 

“Damn rights, if you’re gonna be late! It’s busy as hell tonight, so settle your ass in and help us out!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Noctis rolls his eyes. 

His desk is in the back corner, by a curtained window and away from mostly everyone, so he maneuvers his way there and sits down, casually setting his things in their proper places.

Normally, he starts a fair bit earlier, but he got off late from his full-time regular job, so after rushing home to shove food in his mouth and change into something more comfortable, he’s strolling into the office closer to one thirty in the morning. It takes him a solid fifteen minutes to get settled, too, between having to fill up his water bottle and setting up his computer for the evening.

As a phone sex operator, he’s not required to look the best, nor does it matter what he’s actually doing on the other end of the phone (often times he’s playing games on his 3DS or watching stupid videos on the internet to pass the time between calls). That’s not to say that he isn’t a good looking guy. It’s his voice that needs to sound the best, the most convincing, in order to get the customers to call back.

Nine times out of ten, most of them don’t, but Noctis has a small percentage of regulars he expects at least once or twice a week. Fridays and Saturdays are trendy days to call, and give or take, one of his regulars will call in one of those days.

Noctis is on a couple different kink lines, specializing mostly in bondage and dominance and outright fluffy, passionate shit. There’s one particular line that doesn’t often get callers, one where it doesn’t entirely matter the gender of the worker. It’s something of a specialized line that very few people in the office have their name attached to.

As such, due to it’s lack in popularity, Noctis doesn’t really expect any calls from it, especially not on a busy night light tonight. So when his phone rings almost right as he logs in, he fully expects it to be a client on one of the more popular lines.

“Noctis, you’re up. You got a caller on line four,” says Lunafreya, their accounting manager and switchboard operator.

Yeah, that super unpopular line that no one ever calls? That’s line four.

“Right,” Noctis murmurs, trying not to send genuinely surprised, but he can’t help the slight intone his voice has anyway.

“His name is Prompto Argentum, twenty-years old, paid in full for twenty minutes,” Lunafreya informs him, because the details are required.

“Got it,” Noctis drawls. There’s a ringing in his ear, giving him a moment to clear his voice, drink a sip of his water, before he’s reaching out to press a button on the face of the phone, activating the line the client is on. “Hey, handsome.”

Noctis has his drippy, thick voice on, the one he almost always uses to entice the customers. Honestly, it isn’t completely different than what he normally sounds like, just that it sits a little deeper in his chest, giving it a sort of lustrous effect.

“Uh, hi,” comes the squeaky little response.

Noctis blinks. This guy does not sound like he’s twenty-years old. Judging by the slight crack in his voice, the client sounds like he’s a teenager near the end stages of puberty. Barely even legal, really.

It’s not the first time teenagers have called the hotline to prank them or make jokes.

As such, Noctis can’t help it - he laughs a little bit, the entirety of his demeanour changing from lusty to outright lazy. “You underage, kiddo? Shouldn’t be up this late prank calling people.”

“I’m not underage,” Prompto huffs at him, definitely sounding irritated. Somehow, Noctis doubts this statement. “I’m just… It’s my first time doing this, so, uh… I’m a little nervous.”

Well, Noctis can definitely believe that. 

Most first time callers don’t sound their age, nor how they really want to, simply because they’re incredibly nervous. It’s a big thing to call up a phone sex hotline and let a total stranger seduce them. The defences drop a little bit now, though Noctis maintains that level of professionalism because, well, he has to, especially with a job like this.

Realizing that he’s let a moment of silence pass between them, Noctis speaks, though less lazy, because this person is still a client, and he’s obviously paying for the service. “Okay, that’s fine. Everyone gets nervous on their first call, don’t worry. Prompto, right? What’re you into, Prompto?”

Another few seconds of quiet before Prompto, uncertainly, responds to him. “I, uh, I don’t know…”

Oh, good. So, this guy has no idea what he’s into, yet he’s calling a phone sex line? Well, it’s definitely not the worst thing Noctis has ever heard, though it certainly provides a bit of a challenge. 

Good thing he’s been at this for a few years. 

Of course, despite knowing this, it doesn’t stop Noctis from laughing just a little bit, again. “All right, then. Let’s start easy, then? Work you into the mood? What’re you wearing right now?”

“What am I wearing?”

Prompto sounds outright confused by this question, but Noctis withholds his laughter. Instead, he kicks back against the chair, lifting his feet up and hooking his ankles on the desk, lightly picking away a few fuzzies on his shirt while he waits for Prompto to reply.

And, of course, it’s a stiff response. Somewhat expected at this point. “Uh, just some sweatpants and a comfy shirt.” A momentary pause. “…What about you?”

“Got some jeans and a t-shirt on, nothing too fancy, really.” It’s the truth, too, and Noctis responds so casually, so easily. He does this gig almost every day, so he’s pretty well used to start-ups like this.

“Sorry,” Prompto interrupts his thought process with this entirely too confused, somewhat concerned tone. “But, is talking about what we’re wearing supposed to be sexy?”

Okay. Noctis absolutely cannot stop the laughter that escapes him, though it’s still light in nature. More amused, than anything, and this display of innocence from Prompto is really lowering Noctis’ personal inhibitions just a little bit. 

“You really haven’t done this before, have you?” Noctis comments, a small smile on his face that he thinks he’s able to disguise.

“Not at all…” Yeah. That much is obvious.

Of course, Noctis is laughing again, still light-hearted. Patience and kindness are definitely key here, it seems, and he’s more than willing to give it - that is, if Prompto is willing to pay for it. “It’s supposed to help set the mood, help give a visual. I have no idea what you look like, so I kinda need something to go off of, and vice versa.”

“Oh.” This little statement is followed by the most nervous laugh, but Noctis has to take a second to step back and analyze the spike of emotion that’s hitting his throat right now - because, holy hell, this Prompto dude has a fucking cute laugh.

No. He can’t get weird about all this. It’d make it too awkward, so he quickly chokes whatever this fucking emotion is down, forcing himself to move forward with the conversation. He’s supposed to be guiding Prompto, not getting caught up in a stupid little laugh, for shit’s sake.

Noctis composes himself, then suggests, “Alright, let us talk about what we look like, then we can try a little bit of roleplay, if you want. I’ll tell you what I look like first, okay? To help warm you up.”

There’s a break between the conversation that holds a moment’s silence, but it’s followed by a meek little, “Okay,” coming from Prompto.

“Cool,” Noctis starts. He’s done this so many times, the description comes completely natural to him. “Well, I’ve got short black hair, kinda spiky, and dark blue eyes. I’m about 5’8”, slim build, sitting here, chillin’ in jeans and a t-shirt. Got a basic visual?” 

“Yeah,” Prompto responds.

“Okay. Your turn, then,” Noctis encourages, thumbing at the cell phone in his pocket, considering for a moment to throw on a mobile game while he warms the guy up. 

Prompto’s clearing his throat, sounding like he’s trying to prepare himself for some sort of long, drawn out speech, but Noctis is patient. He’ll wait.

“Blonde hair - spiky, too. Uh, my eyes are a really bright blue, and I got a stupid about of freckles all over. You’re an inch taller than me, and, uh, I’m kinda slender, too.”

Noctis pauses, trying to visualize Prompto now. A blonde haired guy, his age, standing before him with somewhat wide, bright blue eyes, his body speckled with freckles everywhere. 

What he sees, he’s finding he really likes, and Noctis feels sort of captivated by the image. It… really suits the sound of Prompto’s voice, if he’s honest. Entirely youthful, vibrant, despite being fairly nervous.

And, because Noctis is so enamoured by his self created image of Prompto, and is actually really fucking dumb, he speaks without thinking now. “You sound cute.”

Silence.

Well, _shit._

Noctis can’t help but flush at the stupid little slip, taking his legs off the desk so he can sit properly in his chair, elbows resting where he previous had his feet. 

This might be obvious by now, but Noctis might have a thing for blondes and for freckles, and when they’re combined? That’s just… 

He absolutely _cannot_ let that interfere with his job, damnit.

“So, there’s lots of freckles under that shirt you’re wearing, right? Why don’t you take it off for me? Tell me when it’s off.”

Maybe he shouldn’t have said that, because he’s totally indulging in his own fantasy, despite himself, his own thoughts over what Prompto looks like in his mind and matching it with that sweet, husky voice on the other end of the line.

“I…” Prompto pauses, seemingly to have gathered some courage, because the words he speaks next are bolstered with some sort of strength behind them rather than just pure nervousness. "It’s off.”

Closing his eyes for a brief moment, Noctis hums, picturing this delicious image in his head, of Prompto laying on his bed, shirtless. There’s smatterings of freckles all over that chest, which he imagines has pale and pink undertones. A very nice combination, indeed.

“Perfect. I want you to run your hand down your body, maybe start touching your nipples, or somewhere you feel comfortable starting out at. I’ll do it with you. Let’s both make a noise when we’re doing it, okay?”

He’s definitely self indulging a little, and in that moment, he really doesn’t care.

Noctis takes a quick peek around the office space. No one is near his cubicle, and what little sounds he can hear is of his coworkers uttering sweet nothings or little moans into the phone to their own clients. Really, no one would notice his little selfish moment here with Prompto. The sounds would just be chalked up to pleasuring a client.

This assurance to himself has Noctis slowly reaching upwards towards his nipples, lightly pulling and rubbing at them through his shirt. They respond a little, but the moment he hears an erratic breath from Prompto, Noctis feels them instantly harden underneath the pads of his fingers. 

Oh, _hell_ , he likes that sound. A lot. 

“Tell me what you’re doing to yourself. I wanna hear what’s making that delicious sound come out your mouth.” 

Another look around the office is made by Noctis’ dark blue eyes before his hand is darting downwards, going right for the gold. His cock isn’t hard, by any means, but it’s definitely twitching in his jeans. Gingerly, he undoes the button and pushes the zipper down, digging his cock out from the confinement, then quickly hides it with his jacket, just in case.

“My nipples,” Prompto says, though briefly leaves him hanging, but Noctis doesn’t mind. He’s enjoying the imagery going on in his head. “I’m touching my nipples. Rubbing them, pulling them… it, ah, feels really nice.”

Noctis hums, closing his eyes. “Good. While you’re doing that, I want you to picture what it feels like to have someone kissing along your jaw to your neck, down your chest… can you do that?”

Even as he’s saying this, Noctis can’t stop himself from picturing himself doing this to a freckled neck specifically belonging to Prompto. He’s hoping that Prompto’s imagining the sensation of it, too; the little gasp he hears a few seconds later confirms it for him.

Noctis likes _that_ sound, too.

“Feels nice, doesn’t it?” Noctis mildly rambles.

“…Yeah. Feels nice…” Prompto confirms, and they fall together into this sort of silent space where Noctis is very acute to his own perception of Prompto touching himself. He’s only torn from his world, containing Prompto and only Prompto, when that very same person is now asking him one singular question.

“What’re you doing?”

Noctis blinks his eyes open. There’s a shot of panic as he looks around the office, making sure no one is paying attention still, which, to his luck, no one is. For the moment, he settles back against the chair, readjusting his jacket to ensure full privacy before sliding his hand along the length of his cock.

Just from the imagery and sounds alone, Noctis is shamelessly hard and leaking a fair bit of precome onto his fingers. It’s a little bit lewd sounding as he thumbs it off, spreading it along his length, using it as lubrication.

“Got my hand around my cock, picturing you jacking me off. It feels really good, you know? The way you grip my cock,” Noctis responds, a little too honestly, but whatever. It’s hushed enough that only Prompto can hear it.

“Oh.”

Noctis has his eyes closed again as he goes back into his own little world, where Prompto is, in fact, stroking his cock quite steadily, despite the reality of it actually being his own hand. And, really, he shouldn’t be doing this at work, but he can’t quite help himself. Not with such a delicious sounding human, moaning and gasping, on the phone. 

It’s absolutely against the rules, but… it’d be almost cruel to not indulge himself on this one, right?

Whatever, that’s Noctis’ justification. He’s sticking to it.

“What’re you doing to yourself?” Noctis asks, because the line is awfully quiet, other than a few faint wet sounds.

“I’m thinking about you. Thinking about you fisting my cock, too, and how good it feels.”

Hell. That thought alone, knowing that Prompto is thinking of him doing these things? It’s making Noctis achingly hard.

“Good,” Noctis breathes, faintly, because all abandon is lost. “Let’s finish each other off then, hmm?”

There’s a fraction of a second where there’s no sound, and then suddenly, Prompto is saying, “Okay…”

And then, he’s off. 

Noctis increases the rhythmic pace of his hand stroking along his cock, particularly fisting the head, where it’s most sensitive, balls already drawing up so tightly into himself.

Prompto’s moaning, whimpering, making all kinds of noises, and Noctis uses them as fuel. They’re utterly addictive, those sounds, and it’s taking everything in him to not respond too loudly with noises of his own. If he were at home, he’d definitely be letting them fly, but he’s still somewhat conscious of the fact that he’s in an office, at work, so he has to control himself just a little bit.

It’s not hard to tell when he’s close to his release, either. Noctis’ head is spinning just a little bit, and the heat in his belly is shooting downwards from it’s generalized spread of warmth. His cock is throbbing. Everything is fucking throbbing.

“Noctis, I…” Prompto says suddenly.

“Me, too,” Noctis responds without a beat between breaths.

They’re doing this together, evidently, and so as Prompto moans rather loudly into his ear, Noctis follows with his own release hot on his tail. He’s biting down into his lip as his sprays the inside of his coat with come, hips jutting erratically, spasming against the chair. His toes are curling inside his shoes, too, and his breaths are ragged, choked moans, as he works all the way through the orgasm.

After a long moment of this, after finally seeing clearly without stars speckling his vision, Noctis comes down, panting. His heart is pounding against his chest, and as he comes further into consciousness, he’s realizing rather quickly that, fuck, he’s not at home. 

_Fuck._ That’s the first time he’s jacked off at work.

Looking around, slightly dazed, Noctis wipes his brow. From what he can see, no one’s heard or seen what he just did. All he’s hearing from Prompto is a steady array of frantic breaths and light groans, which tells him they finished together.

Hell, Noctis knows he’s in this too deep already. He fucking jacked off at work. Never, in his life, has he done that. At least, not until now. 

Not until meeting this elusive guy named Prompto.

“Hey, Prompto? How was that for your first time?” Noctis tries, weakly, but there’s silence. Perhaps Prompto didn’t hear him, which, given how hard he had cried into the phone, Noctis doesn’t entirely doubt the possibility. Clearing his throat, he speaks more clearly now. “Earth to Prompto?”

“Huh?” comes the faint, winded response.

Oh, yeah. Prompto’s finished, alright.

Breathless, Noctis speaks, “I said, how was that for your first experience?”

There’s a slight delay, but Prompto eventually responds, and he sounds like he’s smiling. “…It was… really good, Noctis. Thank you.”

Noctis is a little too breathless to respond, so he just sits back in his chair, letting that soiled jacket sort of sit over his crotch. Fuck. He’s going to have to deal with that somehow. 

Whatever, he’ll worry about it when he’s off the phone.

“I’d love to do this again, sometime,” Prompto’s saying to him now, and Noctis, strangely, feels a swell in his chest he’s not ever really felt before.

It’s unusual. Noctis doesn’t really… click with clients. At least, not of the first go. Usually, it takes a few rounds with them before he feels any sort of connection, but with Prompto? The connection he feels is completely different. 

It doesn’t make a whole lot of sense, but Noctis is inclined to agree with Prompto.

“Yeah. I’d like that.”

Prompto is chuckling (which, by the way, makes Noctis feel so fucking happy, for whatever strange reason?), “Thanks again, Noctis. Really. You made this experience a lot less awkward for me. I appreciate that.”

Noctis smiles, wide and genuinely. “Anytime, Prompto. I’ll be here the next time you call.” 

“Better be.” And he swears he can hear Prompto smiling, too.

Noctis clicks the log out button the second he’s off the phone with Prompto, somewhat elated and blissful, because who isn’t after they’ve just masturbated? The bliss doesn’t last long though, as Noctis realizes, once again, that he’s at work.

_Fuck._

Diligently, he tucks his cock, now soft and somewhat sticky, back into his pants, then sort of lifts the jacket to see if any mess got on his jeans. Lucky for him, nothing’s there, so Noct wipes his messy hand off on the inside of the jacket, then sort of bundles it up into a ball, tucking it very carefully under the desk, away from anyone’s prying eye.

It’s gross, but, he’ll deal with it when he gets home.

Deciding, perhaps, it’d be in his best interest to clean up before the next call, Noctis stands. He feels a little unstable, but he manages to mask most of it, as he darts through the isles and makes his way towards the bathroom, purposefully ignoring Gladio’s pointed stare. He had just started, after all, so perhaps a bathroom break isn’t warranted in Gladio’s eyes.

Whatever. Noctis isn’t going to sit there all night with a come-stained hand, thank you.

It’s in the bathroom, as he’s washing his hands, that Noctis decides this, though: working from home has never been more important than now, because he’s hooked on the sound of Prompto.

Noctis needs his own private phone line, because the next time Prompto calls? Fuck yes, he’s giving it to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Theeeeeee end!
> 
> ... Maybe?


End file.
